


Niall, Can I Join Your Band?

by harryismymuse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Oblivious Niall, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryismymuse/pseuds/harryismymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wouldn’t it be worse on their friendship if he let Harry audition and ended up choosing someone else? Niall had created the band with his own blood, sweat, and tears back in Freshman year, and he didn’t think he could stand to watch Harry bring it all crashing down at the last minute just because Niall couldn’t bare a few hurt feelings. After all, it was… Harry. Niall loved him to death, but honestly, Harry as the lead singer of a band?</p><p>AU where Niall is trying to find a replacement lead singer for his band but won’t give Harry a chance to try out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Niall, Can I Join Your Band?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr (221hazza.tumblr.com)

“No.” Niall replied for the hundredth time.

Harry shot Niall a look that would’ve made his blood run cold if he hadn’t seen it a million times before. “Seems a bit unfair to not even let me audition.” Harry continued, his voice slow and insistent. Niall sighed as Harry moved in front of him, blocking the only door.

“You’re trapping me in my own dorm room now?” Niall grumbled. He tried his best to shove him aside, but ultimately Harry moved because he decided to, not because Niall’s efforts had actually worked. Niall gave one more exasperated huff before heading out the door, and he wasn’t surprised when Harry followed him.

“You know I’ll just keep this up all day if you won’t talk to me,” Harry stated, a determined expression on his face despite the fact that, long legs and all, he was already losing his breath a bit trying to keep up with Niall.

Niall gritted his teeth, not only because he knew Harry was telling the truth, but also because he didn’t feel like having such an awkward conversation first thing in the morning.

“The flyer says—and yeah thanks mate for letting me find out from a neon yellow sheet of paper—that the auditions will be held tomorrow evening in the West Auditorium. If I skip my last class, I can make it—” Harry’s voice continued on with a breathless bounce as the two of them hustled down the stairs. “—I mean it’s lab, but I’m sure I could work my way around it. The professor loves me. I was her kid’s camp counselor ages ago. But anyway, just give me a shot, Nialler, Jesus.”

It’s in the quiet, almost unnervingly-silent space between the foot of the stairs and the door to the commons that Niall finally decided enough was enough. He turned to face Harry, squaring himself up before he lost his nerve. “Listen Haz. I didn’t tell you about the audition because…” Niall sighed and forced himself to meet the giant green eyes waiting for his response. “You’re my best mate, you know? And if you didn’t ma—… if I had to pick someone else…. do you see how that might make things awkward?”

Harry’s face flashed from hurt to fuming so quickly that Niall nearly thought he’d imagined the first one.

“Sure. No. I get it.” Harry pressed his lips into a grim line and pushed past him. The last thing Niall saw of him before he left through the door and closed it behind himself was a head full of curls and the bright, floral print of his shirt.

***

It had to be said. That’s what Niall tried to remind himself during his morning classes when all he could think of was the way Harry had looked at him the last time they talked. Sure, he’d seen Harry grumpy countless times—in fact it might even be safe to say that Harry had a ‘resting grump face’—but the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Harry genuinely angry about anything. Irritated? Yes. Offended? Of course. But actual anger?

Niall tapped his foot nervously under his desk and did his best to resist texting Harry a blubbering apology. Harry and Niall didn’t fight. When they were together, they laughed and joked and worried about little else other than having the time of their lives. They’d been best friends since high school and honestly, as much as he cringed at the sappiness of it all, Niall couldn’t imagine his life without his weird, curly-haired best buddy. Maybe he was overreacting? Maybe he should give Harry a chance?

Then again…

Wouldn’t it be worse on their friendship if he let Harry audition and ended up choosing someone else? Niall had created the band with his own blood, sweat, and tears back in Freshman year, and he didn’t think he could stand to watch Harry bring it all crashing down at the last minute just because Niall couldn’t bare a few hurt feelings. After all, it was… Harry. Niall loved him to death, but honestly, Harry as the lead singer of a band?

Niall chuckled to himself as he thought about his friend. Lover of button-up, Hawaiian shirts and 18th century poetry. Sweet as pie with a dimpled grin and legs so long he barely knew what to do with them. Nothing about Harry said edgy or dangerous or even thrilling. Aside from when he was especially wasted, Harry was quiet, mild-mannered, and square as cubed cheese. Pushing Harry out to center stage in front of a live crowd would be the equivalent of throwing a lamb to the wolves.

Having made up his mind, Niall knocked on Harry’s dorm room door later that evening just as most people on campus were beginning to settle into their studies.

“Haz?” Niall called into the room. His voice was soft and hesitant—he hoped Harry could hear how sorry he was by his tone. “I uh—I brought you Starbucks.”

Niall half expected Harry to pop his head around the door at the mention of his favorite coffee, but still he got no reply. When he twisted the knob and gave the door a little push, it opened without much protest, so maybe he would just wait in the room until Harry got back.

Harry’s room wasn’t dirty necessarily, but it was certainly messy. Little messes scattered about the place like junk nests. Harry’s roommate had dropped out sometime during the first month of the semester and there hadn’t been a replacement, so he was technically living on his own. But Niall ended up spending more nights in Harry’s dorm than in his own. He would just come in, expecting to hang for a bit, and the next thing he knew, he’d be crawling into the bed, nudging Harry aside and stealing half the covers because Niall hated sleeping alone.

He thought of this with a smile as he neatly collected a miscellaneous jumble of papers from Harry’s bed and lined them up into a stack. He was just about to set them aside and take a seat when he realized what they were.

“What are you doing?”

Niall startled enough to lose his grip on the papers, and he blushed deeply as they all fell in a glorious flurry to the floor. Harry was standing in the doorway, keys in hand, cheeks flushed from the Autumn chill, staring at Niall like he was some sort of intruder.

“I… um—” Niall stuttered, bending down to retrieve the papers from around his feet. “I’m sorry, I was just… cleaning.”

Harry grabbed the papers away once they’d all been collected into a pile again. With his back to Niall, he shoved them in his top dresser drawer and slammed it shut. “Those are personal, Nialler. You shouldn’t snoop.”

“I know. I know, I was just—cleaning up a bit and—” Niall scratched his head nervously and shrugged. “You probably shouldn’t leave your door open like that—”

Harry snorted his exasperation and tossed his keys onto his desk. They slid dangerously close to falling behind it, and then stopped.

“I brought you coffee,” Niall offered, retrieving the now-lukewarm cup from a stack of books he’d placed it on. “I’m sorry for this morning.”

Harry didn’t say anything in response, but he took the coffee and drank from it, his expression slowly turning from annoyed to indifferent as he listened to Niall.

“You were excited and I shouldn’t have tried to hide the auditions from you.”

Harry huffed in agreement.

“Am I forgiven?” Niall asked, playfully batting his lashes and reaching out to bump Harry’s arm gently with his hand.

Harry tried to hold back a smile, but when he glanced down at Niall making that stupid face, he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, fine, I guess I can forgive you.” He muttered.

They stood there awkwardly for another moment or so before Niall finally broke the silence. “So poems, huh?”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You know, like the poetry you had written down on the…” Niall gestured towards the drawer where Harry had stashed the papers when he first walked in.

Harry took a seat on the bed and kicked one shoe off after another. His socks were black with yellow polka dots. “Oh. Yeah, those. It’s just something I was trying out.”

Niall sat down beside him, nudging as close as he could get until Harry glanced over at him with a question in his eyes. “They were pretty good, Haz. Maybe you should try to get them published or something?”

A blush crept up Harry’s cheeks, and he bit his lip, looking at Niall for a long time before responding. “Maybe,”

Niall ended up staying the night over Harry’s, as usual. When he woke up alone in the bed, he discovered that Harry had tied his hair up in two short blonde pig tails and drawn a smiley face on his torso with the nips for eyes. So naturally Niall assumed that amends had been made and they were back to being best mates again.

***

He didn’t see Harry all day, which was weird because they usually ran into each other at least twice between classes. Harry hadn’t even answered his phone when Niall called to see if he wanted to grab some lunch. By the time Niall walked into the West Auditorium that evening for the auditions, his stomach was in his throat and he was a worried mess.

“He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’s fine.” Eric, the keyboardist assured Niall, squeezing his shoulder. There were undertones of sarcasm in his voice, but Niall didn’t really notice.

“Yeah, but it’s Harry,” Niall muttered, staring at his phone and biting his nail. Niall, Eric, and Lee, the drummer were all sitting in the fifth row of seats in the auditorium. The lights were dimmed everywhere except the stage, and the first candidate was already adjusting their mic. “It’s just…what if something happened?”

But Niall didn’t get his answer because the small girl on stage with a long pony-tail began singing, and his bandmates were faced forward, listening. Niall bounced his foot nervously and glanced at his phone again.

By the time the third candidate was walking off the stage, Niall was pushing his way past his bandmates to get to the aisle. He’d texted Harry ten times and called twenty. Harry always answered, always. Something was wrong.

“Where are you going?” Lee hissed, frowning as Niall started climbing the stairs up to the exit.

“I’ve gotta go find Harry! He’s not answering his phone—”

A hand catching on his shirt stopped him in his tracks and nearly had him careening backwards down the steps. “Niall! Chill; Harry is literally right there. What are you talking about?” Eric released his grip on Niall’s shirt and motioned for him to come sit down again. But all Niall could do was stare at the stage in disbelief.

“Hello, I’m Harry—”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Niall had never felt so furious in his life. Harry was standing there, dressed in his best silk shirt, hair gleaming, with a big cheesy grin on his face. Totally safe. Totally not dying on the side of the road somewhere. “I called you like a million times!”

“Oh, um…” Harry frowned and reached into his back pocket to grab his phone. He made a face and looked up at Niall, shrugging a shoulder in apology. “Sorry. I had it on silent all day.”

Silent. He had it on silent. Niall clenched his hands into fists, half-wanting to charge the stage and grab Harry by the ears to drag him out of there. Hadn’t they discussed it? Harry wasn’t going to audition. Harry was going to stay out of it and mind his own damn business.

Harry cleared his throat and turned to address Lee and Eric. “Um, so anyway I’ll be singing a song I wrote. I hope you like it.” Harry eyed Niall as he said it, but only briefly before he stepped up to the mic and grasped it with both hands.

Niall huffed and plopped down into the seat nearest to him. If Harry wanted an audition, then fine. He would get one, no special treatment whatsoever.

Harry’s voice started off slow and deep, but it quickly swelled to fill the entire auditorium, coming through so clearly it seemed like he was standing right in front of them. Niall shifted in his seat, taken aback a little. The song was nice, even without the music. Niall recognized it from the writings he found in Harry’s dorm room the night before. The ones he’d thought were poems.

As the song began to build, Harry took the mic from it’s stand and walked to the edge of the stage, singing with everything he had until he was literally standing on his tip toes. He sounded amazing. Really amazing. And that was his Harry up there, Niall realized. Confident, alluring, captivating… It was like a switch had been flipped.

When Harry finished the song, he dropped the mic to his side and stood with a nervous, breathless grin on his face as his three audience members erupted in applause. “Thank you,” He said, quietly, hiding one arm behind his back, glancing down at his toes. Just like that, the old Harry was back, smiling modestly, swaying from side to side as he waited for the feedback.

The other candidates before him had been good. In fact, all of them could have easily taken the place as lead singer and done great. They were told they’d be given a call within the hour with what had been decided. But Harry…

“We’ve gotta have him,” Lee blurted immediately, turning to his bandmates.

“Definitely, that was amazing,” Eric agreed.

All three pairs of eyes turned to Niall then, Harry’s big green ones standing out the most.

“Well I’d be an idiot to say no to that,” Niall finally said, breaking into a smile. “Welcome to the band, Haz.”

***

“I’m so sorry I doubted you. You were really somethin’.” Niall caught Harry just as he was climbing down from the stage.

“Well,” Harry raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. “Not to say I told you so but…” He reached out a finger to poke Niall on the nose.

“Fuck off,” Niall laughed, pushing aside Harry’s hand. It was just supposed to be a playful swat, but somewhere along the way their fingers locked in between each other’s, clasping their palms together.

Harry looked at their hands, then back up at Niall, who was no doubt turning red. “It’s okay.” He said softly. “You can hold my hand if you want to.”

Niall’s heart was racing in his chest. He opened his mouth to reply to Harry, but before he could, he was interrupted by Eric sliding between them, breaking their hands apart in the process and slipping an arm around Harry’s shoulder.

Eric offered Harry a cheeky, but dazzling, grin. “Hey, me and Lee were gonna go grab something to eat, did you wanna come, bandmate?”

Something about the entire interaction made Niall wanna be sick. He could barely even fake a smile when Harry glanced over at him, a question in his eyes. “You guys go ahead. I think I’m gonna head back to my room,” Niall said, waving and walking away before anyone had the chance to protest.

***

A couple weeks went by and everything had returned to normal. Except Harry was rehearsing with the band twice a week and Niall couldn’t stop thinking about him no matter how hard he tried.

It was annoying, really. Like having a song stuck in his head, but instead of a catchy melody, it was Harry’s voice and his eyes and the way he smelled, haunting him day in and day out. He couldn’t read his Chemistry text book without smiling at the way half the pages were dog-eared because Harry liked to fold them when he was bored. Whenever he zipped up his jacket in the morning, he felt an extra bit of warmth because Harry had been the one to buy it for him on his last birthday. And when he was actually around Harry? Everything just got so much worse.

“New shoes, Haz?” Niall said as he walked into rehearsal and pointed at the shiny black leather boots Harry was sporting on his feet. Lee and Eric were already busy setting up and adjusting their equipment as was necessary. The room they were using was one that had long been abandoned as a glorified storage closet. All around them, boxes of dusty instruments, broken stools, and forgotten music sheets were hoarded messily at the edges of the room. But it was soundproofed, and nobody ever bothered them, so that was enough.

“Yeah, they’re new,” Harry beamed, glancing down at his shoes and back at Niall. Niall’s heart thudded heavily at how beautiful he looked. Harry was wearing a navy blue knit sweater that hung loose from his shoulders, falling to just below the waist of his slim black jeans. He rolled up the sleeves of the sweater as he spoke, revealing slim wrists and tattooed forearms. “I thought they looked rather nifty, don’t you think?”

Normally, Niall would have laughed and replied with something witty, but at the moment he found himself alarmingly endeared by the question. “Yeah, Haz, lookin’ good.” He tried not to panic about it all meant as he clapped his best friend on the back and announced the start of rehearsal.

***

“Nice job today guys,” At the end of rehearsal an hour later, Niall let his fingers fall away from the strings and his guitar hang limply around his neck. He grinned at his bandmates, specifically Harry, who’d just figured out the perfect end to a song they’d been working on for weeks. It was brilliant, really.

“It seems a bit anticlimactic?” Harry had said when the other three asked his opinion, at their wits end and on the verge of tossing the song out completely.

“Like how?” Lee had asked, setting his drum sticks aside and leaning forward to hear him speak.

Harry seemed surprised to have everyone listening to him so intently. He took hold of his mic and fumbled with it as he spoke. “Well maybe… we could do it like this instead?” And he’d hummed out a new melody that dipped and wavered and peaked before coming back down again to finish. It was fresh and satisfying and so much better than what they’d been using.

“Fuck, we have to perform this somewhere,” Lee said once Harry had finished.

“Yes we do,” Niall had muttered absentmindedly, busy watching Harry sweep a lock of hair behind his ear and smile down at his toes. His best friend. His brilliant, endlessly endearing, beautiful friend…

After calling an end to the rehearsal, Niall started walking over to Harry, a jumble of words already on the tip of his tongue, buzzing to get out before he lost his nerve. Harry-do-you-maybe-wanna-go-out-with-me-tonight-like-not-as-a-friend-but-as-a-date? Instead, Eric got there before him, and Niall watched in horror as he caught Harry’s attention and reached out to touch a hand to his wrist. An affectionate gesture; fleeting but meaningful.

“Big plans tonight, Harry?” Eric asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

“Oh,” Harry blinked, looking a bit startled. “No, not really.”

Eric shook his head, a friendly smirk on his face. “There’s no way someone like you should be spending their Saturday night alone. Come out with me. We’ll get drinks and talk about these lovely curls of yours…” Eric reached up to delicately swipe at a stray lock by Harry’s jaw.

Niall snorted quietly. What a line. He waited for Harry to laugh in Eric’s face and walk away, but he wasn’t laughing, he was smiling. Harry was smiling and fucking flirting, leaning in closer, murmuring something beside Eric’s ear before grinning and letting the slightly older guy lead him out the door into the hall. The two of them leaving Niall to stand there, wondering what the hell had just happened.

***

“Where have you been?” Niall demanded when Harry danced into his dorm room well after two in the morning.

“Fucking sh—!” Harry yelped and jumped half a foot off the ground before stumbling back against the door, clutching a hand to his heart. “Jesus, Ni, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you!” Niall gritted, knowing he didn’t have a right to be angry but still feeling it anyway. “….How was it?” He forced his voice to soften as he glanced up at Harry, feeling like he might be sick. All he could picture was Eric’s stupid arm around Harry’s shoulders. His stupid hand on Harry’s hand. And his stupid lips on Harry’s lips. He pushed the thought away before it could go any further.

Harry pressed said lips together and raised an eyebrow. “How was what?”

Niall glared at him, reluctant to say the words aloud. “How was your date?”

“It was… nice.” Harry mumbled, pulling his sweater over his head and kicking off his jeans. Leaving him in a soft white cotton t-shirt and boxers. “Eric’s a nice guy.”

“Yeah…” Niall prodded, trying not to sound too hopeful about Harry’s lack of enthusiasm. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his knee bouncing nervously with anticipation. “Do you think you’ll go out with him again?”

Harry ignored Niall for several seconds and proceeded to pull his t-shirt over his head as well, exposing his bare chest. “We had one drink and talked a little bit about classes and ideas for the band. I was only there with him for maybe an hour.”

Niall had been trying to focus on what Harry was saying, but his eyes kept sliding down his friend’s lean, tattooed torso, watching the muscle flex under tanned skin every time Harry moved. However his head snapped up at the last thing Harry said, and he wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Wait, if you were only with Eric for an hour then where did you go after that?”

Harry sighed and walked over to Niall, motioning for him to scoot aside so he could climb into his own bed, all bare skin and long legs. “If I’m going to be interrogated this way, at least let me call my lawyer.” Harry joked. “I went to a party, Warden. Is that okay with you? …Kick off your shoes and come warm me up; it’s freezing in this room.” Harry shuffled noisily over to the other side of the bed, making room for Niall. Niall who’s heart was racing wildly with the knowledge that Harry still seemed to like his company best.

“I thought this was just a winter thing,” Niall said, kicking off his shoes and crawling over to Harry. “You’re always so cold and I have to lay here with you for hours.” Niall smiled fondly at the memories as he opened his arms and allowed Harry to cuddle up against him. They stayed like that for over twenty minutes, not talking, just thinking.

Harry was the first to break the silence; just huffed once and made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat.

Niall, who had been happily trailing his fingers down Harry’s back, frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Harry pulled away from Niall’s embrace and rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost comical. “You are quite possibly the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.”

A little offended, Niall retorted, “What? Why?”

Harry grumbled something his breath and started moving his legs around under the covers, wiggling like he was trying to find a spot to get comfortable in. “I’m not cold, you dummy. I’ve literally never been cold. If anything, I was warming you up; your skin feels like ice sometimes.”

Harry finally stopped the fumbling and pulled something out from under the covers, tossing it in Niall’s face. His boxers. Niall held them in his hand and looked at Harry, speechless, his heart thundering in his chest.

“Sex, Niall.” Harry said, eyes wide and serious as he spoke, “I want to have sex with you. I want to be with you, in that way and every other. If that’s something you want, too…”

Niall’s mouth stuttered open a couple times, but ultimately just hung stupidly ajar as he tried to process what had just been said. “I—” He managed. “I—”

Harry’s expression was a mixture of anger, exhilaration, and fear. He watched silently as Niall fumbled for words, not bothering to interrupt him. It made Niall’s skin blush a dark red and he knew he had to look ridiculous.

“Harry, I… I never thought you felt that way about me.” He finally got the words out, but he still didn’t know if they were the right ones.

Harry took in a shaky breath, his chest rising with the expansion of his lungs. “Do you feel that way about me?”

Did he? If the thickening of his dick at the thought of a naked Harry sitting next to him had anything to say about it, then yes he certainly did. “Harry, I want you in any way you’ll let me,” He replied, his voice soft. He met Harry’s eyes, hoping he was coming off as sincere as he felt. “I want this Harry. I want you.”

Harry breathed out a shaky laugh then, the nerves visibly falling away from him. “Well. It’s about fucking time, you goof.”

Niall grinned, his blood feeling sweet and heavy like syrup in his veins. He’d never realized how badly he’d wanted this. Never realized how crazy about Harry he actually was. All he knew was he had this restless buzzing inside him; like if he didn’t kiss Harry in the next thirty seconds he might explode. 

So he leaned in, and Harry did, too. Closing the gap between them so their lips could finally meet, soft and unhurried. Harry tasted so good. Subtly sweet, like he’d been sucking on hard candy earlier or something like that.

“Is that…butterscotch?” Niall laughed against Harry’s mouth.

Harry seemed to find it equally amusing because he choked out a giggle at himself and said, “Yeah, I ate a candy like three hours ago. Surprised you can still taste it.”

Niall was listening, but not really. They started kissing again, and he lost himself in Harry’s lips, his hair, the way his body felt pressed against him. He moaned a little as the kiss heated up, even daring to trail his hand up Harry’s chest. 

“That feels nice,” Harry breathed. And when Niall broke the kiss to smile at him, Harry was looking at him, eyes wide, breath coming in quick little pants. It was the same expression he got on his face after he got off of a particularly thrilling rollercoaster. And Niall felt his heart thunder at the realization that he’d been able to make Harry feel that way with just a kiss. 

“You feel nice,” Niall countered, finally. “We do.”


End file.
